A Small World
by pink-hime-sakura
Summary: What the heck does an Oracle, a prostitute, an Emperor, and a servant have in common? Everything; love and hate. They become tangled up in these emotions; will they find happiness? E+T, S+S. R/R please.
1. The Oracle and the Prostitute

Hey, everyone!  
  
This is one fic that I actually planned; some aspects of it are based off a Chinese TV series called Da Han Tian Zi, so if you're Chinese and some of the situations seem slightly familiar, that might be why ^_~!  
  
And a forewarning about the word testing; I do not know how to write Japanese, so I'm totally making up the formations, so don't flame me telling me I'm wrong.  
  
I don't own CCS or Da Han Tian Zi.  
  
I'll shut up and start writing now!  
  
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In the little town called Tomoeda, an oracle sold his services 3 times a day. He tested words; according to the formation of the word, he predicted the outcome of a certain event.  
  
Each day, he sold three tests, no more. Once the three tests were sold, he would leave the marketplace, to return at dawn of the next day. If he hadn't finished selling his three tests by normal time, he would stand near his stall and wait.  
  
Every day, all three tests were sold, for he was an excellent oracle, and none of his predictions were incorrect. He never accepted payment until his prediction was proved accurate, and even so he was a very rich man.  
  
Although the oracle was so wealthy, he gave his money to some needy person. He did not donate his money to a charity, instead he would give the money directly to someone desperately in need of money, as if he knew their plight.  
  
This oracle was sometimes called a prophet, sometimes a miracleworker, and sometimes a demon, but no one knew what his purpose was, and he never acted improper or showed his true feelings.  
  
This oracle's name was Eriol Hirizigawa.  
  
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A man carrying a baby ran hurriedly towards the marketplace. His child, only one week old, was sick with a strange disease. He had a high fever, and wouldn't eat anything.  
  
Being from a poor family, the man was frantic. He didn't have enough money to hire a doctor, but there had to be some other way to heal his son. Asking around the marketplace, and finding more than one heartless stranger, the man was in despair.  
  
Suddenly, a hand tapped his shoulder, and he turned around, only to face the oracle, Eriol Hirizigawa. "Oh, sir, oh sir! Please help my child!" The man didn't think an oracle would be able to heal his son, but right now he had no other choices open.  
  
"I will try." It was already dusk, and normally, by now, Eriol would have been in his home.  
  
"But sir...I have no money," the poor man stuttered, not wanting to accept charity.  
  
"Money is no matter. Just say that I give you this service as a gift." Eriol smiled his mysterious, unearthly smile.   
  
The man fell on his knees, thanking the oracle, holding out the child for the oracle to inspect.  
  
Eriol shook his head. "I am not a doctor, noble sir, I can only test words. Please suggest a word of which I can test."  
  
By now, they had gained a crowd, most of them customers Eriol had refused as his last test. They were indignant, but kept quiet because whatever Eriol did always had a purpose.  
  
The poor man was at a loss. He never had any schooling, coming from a poor family. He was raised and trained on how much water the field needed, how to tell a good crop from bad, and how to get rid of injurious pests. He never learned how to read or write, and did not know the characters for anything except his own name.  
  
Eriol seemed to read his thoughts, and asked, "What is your surname?"  
  
"My surname is Zhu." The man was confused as to why his surname was important. The oracle wouldn't go report him to the lord of Tomoeda for not paying him, would he? Eriol smiled reassuringly, and all his doubts disappeared.  
  
"Alright, let us use your surname as the word. What situation would you like to have tested?"  
  
"I would like to test a way to save the life of my child, honorable oracle."  
  
Eriol wrote the word on a bamboo scroll, then studied it very carefully, turning it this way and that. Everyone was silent, waiting for the oracle's prediction. "Ah, yes," he murmured. "This word contains another word within; the word 'all'. This represents the 'all' in the saying, 'all or nothing'. It appears that your child will be fine, but the cure is harder to figure out. This word you have chosen, it is your surname, and therefore it is a name representing your household, is it not?"  
  
The man nodded, and Eriol continued. "Therefore the cure for your son is in a name." Looking at the man, Eriol asked kindly, "Have you given your son an official name yet?"  
  
The man shook his head, and said, "We were planning to do it today, but he suddenly took ill and we couldn't do it when he was ill. We call him by his nickname, Waku."  
  
"I see. Therein lies your solution, humble sir. Give him a name which protects his health. How about, Jenkang? In Chinese, the name Jenkang symbolizes health. Are you willing to name your son thus?"  
  
"Oh, yes sir...as long as it will cure him!" The man looked a little uncertain, but the oracle was wiser than he, after all, and he was desperate. Once he had said that, the child began to cry.  
  
"Ah...his health is restored. You may return home now, and bring the good tidings home to your wife."  
  
The man nodded, ecstatic, and still unbelieving of the miracle that had been performed, and ran towards the outskirts of his village, managing a breathless "Thank you!" on his way home.  
  
The crowd that had collected around them dissipated as Eriol folded up his bamboo scrolls, collected his ink and brush, and left for his home in the opposite direction.  
  
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There was another famous place in the city of Tomoeda where people liked to frequent. It was the Water Dragon Pavilion, a famous brothel where the famous prostitute lived.  
  
The prostitute was very strange; she did not sell her body, but only sold her arts. She spent her time talking with her customers, sometimes giving them massages. Mainly, she was in call for her music. She was an excellent singer, and also knew how to play the zither. She knew how to dance, as well, and was talented in all forms of art. Her talent was great enough so that she could be a professional performer, but instead, she insisted on staying in the brothel.  
  
Many people visited her, mainly only rich people, for only rich people could afford her company. Her most frequent visitor was the lord of Tomoeda. Always, when he came, he would try and persuade her to bed with him, but she always refused, asking of the outside world, and any dark secrets he was keeping.  
  
She asked this of all her customers; had they seen any mysterious people? Had they seen anyone strange with a beautiful young lady?  
  
Due to her charm, these people always replied honestly, and told her of any news they had. Always there were men insisting on bedding with her, but since she was the 'treasure' of the Water Dragon Pavilion, she always had personal guards standing outside her door, at her beck and call.  
  
Like the oracle, this prostitute was also very rich, and like the oracle, this prostitute gave much of her money away. However, she targeted different people. The people she donated to were always orphans, and girls who were being mistreated.  
  
Surrounded by so many suitors, the prostitute always seemed charming and graceful, but she never told of her true feelings, and no one could read her thoughts.  
  
This prostitute was named Tomoyo Daidouji.  
  
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The lord of Tomoeda walked proudly into the Water Dragon Pavilion, commanding them to bring out the lady he always visited, Tomoyo Daidouji. He always sought her favor, bringing her this trinket and that jewel. However, riches were not what she asked for. What she asked for was news. Always news on what was going on, were there any suspicious kidnappings lately, were there any spectacular performers around town.  
  
He always told her this news, but she never responded to any of his questions, like why was she a prostitute, why didn't she become a performer?  
  
He frowned. If Tomoyo would just quit being a 'prostitute' and leave the Water Dragon Pavilion to become a performer, he could marry her, but his subjects would never accept a prostitute as the lady of Tomoeda.  
  
His frown was wiped off his face when Tomoyo glided into the room, her hair styled perfectly, her robes arranged flawlessly, her makeup drawn impeccably. He stood up to greet her with the usual, giving her his arm.  
  
"Tomoyo-chan, why don't you leave this ugly place? Make a better life for yourself as a performer. Your music is wonderful, your dancing beautiful, and your artistic work lovely. Why settle for being a low prostitute?"  
  
Tomoyo responded with the same, her voice tinkling as usual. She led him over to the cushions in her room where he could recline. "My lord, your humble servant is satisfied with this job, and your humble servant wishes to know the news of the town."  
  
The lord sighed, plopping down on a brightly embroidered cushion, no doubt made by Tomoyo herself. "What do you wish to know today?"  
  
"Have you found any horrendous criminals lately? Captured any kidnappers?" It was always the same sort of questions; any new criminals, any new performers, any orphans seeking for family, any outstanding ladies.  
  
"No, my lady." The lord changed the subject. "Now, sing for me."  
  
Resigned, Tomoyo bowed. "With the zither, sir?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
The music that floated from the zither accompanied the heavenly voice of the prostitute, Tomoyo Daidouji, perfectly, and the harmonious tone floated through the open window.  
  
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Okay. Done with this chapter! It was pretty long, but I liked it. Next chappie I'm gonna introduce the emperor and the servant girl. I guess this 'prologue' is a little boring, ne? Sorry, once I finish the character intros, I can start the actual plot.  
  
Anyone wanna tell me why my formatting is still not right? Because whenever I write 'apostrophe s' it turns out as 'I line s'. It's weird. And my quotation marks aren't right, either. Or is it just my computer that does this?  
  
Well, that's all the news for now, so bye!  
  
Pink_hime_sakura 


	2. The Servant and the Emperor

Well, here comes the second chapter!  
  
I think I'm going to update this story once every few days since the chapters are longer than my usual ones. After all, I dun wanna get typer's elbow! ^-^  
  
Sorry for taking so long to update the second chappie, but I was working on my other ficcie that a lot more people read.  
  
Disclaimer: Let's so this a more creative way.  
  
You: Do you- Me: NO You: Then do you- Me: NO  
  
There. In a creative way, I showed that I don't own CCS or Da Han Tian Zi.  
  
Okay, I guess that's all!  
  
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Tokyo was home to many servants, mainly because it housed the Emperor, who alone needed thousands of attendants. Among this throng of waiting women and message carriers, cooks and servers, there lived a young servant girl. This servant was very beautiful and obedient.  
  
She had endured years of loneliness and cruelty, having been sold by a slave trader to the palace. She was accepted and trained as a maidservant mainly because of her beauty and quietness.  
  
Having been trained several, long years to become a loyal servant, she felt like sometimes her real self was stolen away from her, replaced by the formalities and duties of a servant.  
  
All the other servants loved her well because no matter what she was always cheerful, probably why she survived the long years of torment.  
  
This poor, forsaken girl was named Kinomoto Sakura.  
  
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"All slaves forward!"  
  
Sakura stepped forward as she was told, holding her head down modestly as she was told, and keeping silent as she was told. This was her everyday way of life, doing what others told her to, nothing else. She didn't have any decisions to make, didn't have any choices to ponder. She might as well have been a robot, who followed everyone's command.  
  
However, she did have a personality that made her the most popular of all the slaves in the caravan; she was optimistic and caring, and when she didn't have any orders to obey, she took her time telling stories to the littlest ones, only a few years younger than herself, or caring for the elderly, some practically too old to work.  
  
Today, the caravan was stopping in Tokyo, the capital of Japan. If it weren't for the reason why they were actually here, the slaves would've felt like any normal family (for that was what they were like), traveling to the glorious capital on vacation.  
  
At the market, the slave traders bade a few slaves go onto the temporary platform they brought with them for showing off slaves. They had hand- picked several pretty ones especially because they were in Tokyo's rich district, and many noblemen would assuredly like to buy some beautiful female slaves for their personal enjoyment.  
  
Sakura thought this was disgusting; it was bad enough the slave traders didn't treat them like people, but instead like machines. How could anyone live through so many years of slave training and then be sold off to please the sick desires of some old men? She forced the bile back down her throat; if she had vomited, the slave traders would leave her no food or drink and lock her up in the dark room for days.  
  
She was barely aware of the people being bought, nervously waiting for her turn. I really hope I get lucky and get sold to a nice person who wants me as a nurse for their child or something...instead of... Sakura's thoughts trailed off, not even wanting to think of her possible destiny as a sex slave.  
  
Sakura waved a small goodbye, trying hard not to attract the attention of the traders, to some of her friends, sold off to the rich aristocrats, no better than pigs. She couldn't bear slave markets, seeing so many of her friends headed off to a, most likely, drear and isolated world where they would be servants forever.  
  
Soon, it was her the slave traders led up to the front, her arms being gripped by a rough man, preventing her from running. As if she had enough energy to, she thought bitterly. She kept her eyes down, not wanting to see the people bidding for her as they would an animal.  
  
Blocking out all sound, she only heard a high, sweet voice calling out a bid. Her spirits lifted a little. Perhaps this female would win the bid! Then she wouldn't be used for bedding...She waited anxiously to hear who she had been sold to.  
  
"Sold!" Hearing the slave trader yell out the dreaded word, she glanced up for a second, just as the guard pushed her to an elegant noblewoman, who sat in a beautiful palanquin with dragons engraved on the side. Sakura was so relieved she was not sold to a sick old man.   
  
Sakura, trying to keep up with the palanquin, looked one last time at the caravan where all of her friends sat, and couldn't help shedding a few tears, though her new mistress may get mad at her. This was the end of her life as she knew it, and she would be in a totally new world by tomorrow.  
  
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Tokyo was the glorious capital of the glorious kingdom of Japan, the Emperor's City, where the current Emperor was housed. The new Emperor, having just ascended the throne, was still new at governing a kingdom.  
  
As his father died when he was very young, he had dozens of attendants, teachers, and nurses. He was given anything he desired, and whenever he refused to do something, his royal mother would bribe him into it by promising him new gifts.  
  
It was no wonder he was such a spoiled child; being the Prince of Japan as well as the heir to the throne, people all over the island paid him tribute. On his birthday, he would be given the best silks and most priceless artifacts to play with. When he was brought out of the city, which was rarely, every peasant stood on the streets to watch him go by, and to throw candy and treats at him.  
  
At the same time, when he was being spoiled so badly, he was trained just as hard. If he didn't train, his teachers threatened, he would not ascend the throne. Being a young child then, the Emperor still slacked off, until his advisors promised him lots of goodies if he obeyed and trained as hard as he could.  
  
Eventually, the Emperor became very proud of his technique, and thought he was the best martial artist around. Anyone who dared say he was better than the Emperor at fighting was immediately taken into the dungeons.  
  
Yes, the Emperor of Japan was a selfish, spoiled, arrogant man, named Li Syaoran.  
  
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"It is our coronation today," Syaoran intoned, using the plural form to signify his position as emperor, though he was only a prince currently. A smirk broke over his face. What power he had now!  
  
His father had died when Syaoran was very young, so his uncle had ruled for Syaoran in his stead, until today. Today, Syaoran would take the power that was rightfully his. Thoughts of his new superiority danced around his head as a servant placed his royal robes on, the color of spun gold, silky soft.  
  
Another servant placed the royal headdress on his head, the traditional cap with elongated front and back, and beads hanging down. After shaking his head to make sure it was on tightly, Syaoran gave a satisfied nod.  
  
Today was his special day, and it was going to be perfect. Syaoran smiled, and practiced looking kingly and proud, as his father once did.  
  
Though he would never admit it to anyone, Syaoran wished his father hadn't died so young; he would've preferred his father teach him the ways of the court as opposed to his advisors.  
  
A servant bowed low in front of him, requesting permission to bring in the dragon slippers.  
  
"May the royal prince live for a thousand years!"  
  
Syaoran twirled around, furious. "What did you call us?" His face was red with anger, and the servant, once so calm and collected, gasped and started shaking.  
  
"May your Majesty please forgive this worthless one's crude mouth! May your Majesty live a hundred thousand years!" The terrified servant bowed three times to Syaoran, still trembling.  
  
"Take him away," Syaoran thundered, inwardly delighted at his power. Several guards came in and dragged away the poor servant, and Syaoran resumed to being fitted for his new imperial clothes.  
  
After being fitted perfectly, Syaoran smiled, pleased, and took a deep breath, forgetting all about the poor servant. When he was ready, he stepped into the royal coach outside, as thoughts of his power drifted inside his head.  
  
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I know, I know, Syaoran's story was boring and pointless, but I couldn't think of anything so I tried to emphasize his selfishness and pride.  
  
I dunno what else to write, so toodles for now, and please review. I'll continue with...er...five reviews!  
  
Pink_hime_sakura 


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